Slot Machine (Playing God)

Written Febuary 2024

Notes: First attempt at absurdist fiction, though I feel like I could have pushed it further

I smooth my money on the edge of the slot machine. The place is curled in with rust after hours of wear. I feed my dollar to the machine. Starry lights thank me, bless me, as they shoot across the ceiling, and I smile sweetly at its face. I tug on the lever, and it thunks in such a satisfying way, whirring to life and spinning, sprinning, spinning colors. I cross my fingers and start praying for 777 lucky number 7. Clunk, clunk, clunk, I don't need to see the mismatched sour symbols, I hear a nauseating din, failure, try again, and I feel my gut fall out of my torso.

I smooth my money on the edge of the slot machine. I feed my dollar to the machine. Starry lights thank me, and I pull down the lever, the thunk sending sparks of purpose through my trembling veins. Twirling, spinning, spinning. I pray a little harder, a little more faithfully. Say, I need this. Say, please. Clunk clunk clunk. Nothing. Try again.

I smooth my 7 dollar bill on the edge of the slot machine. I feed it, a lucky meal, and give the eyes a small wink and I tug down that lovely lever and I'm so happy and I pray. Pray so passionately. Pray please, please, please. I know it will happen. The lights dazzle at the edges of my vision. Like angels. Lucky number 7 7 7 dollar bill. Clunkclunkclunk. I receive a small payout. Nothing. Try again.

I smooth my profit on the edge of the slot machine. The corner buckles further, giving in under the victory of my prize. I feed the machine its dues and the constellations kiss my forehead like a mother, warm and loving. I stroke the lever gently and I begin crying and groveling. Spinning, spinning, spinning, clunk, clunk, clunk-- nothing. Fucking try again?

I cry out, bleating profusely now, and I reach into my pocket as red noise overwhelms every inch of me. My hand emerges, revealing my heavy golden coins and each one, plink, plink, plink falls and clatters into the starving mouth of the machine. It lights up, overjoyed, manic, and I bathe in its bright forgiveness. I hug the crank like my savior and it thunks into place as my weight pulls it down. I feel it in each joint, digest it. The machine spins back to life and I know my winning is possible, so possible, so close. I reach out and touch the eyes of the machine. I say anything at all. To my chilling dismay the clunk clunk clunk brings nothing but damnation. Nothing. Kill yourself or try again.

I smooth my wallet on the edge of the slot machine and I hear it shredded within the guts of my lord. I hold the crank with shaking hands and it greets me with spinning and nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. Chewing the wad of possibility in my mouth I put my house into the machine. It chews it up and spits out lights and a beckoning hand which I shake and It spins me like a hurricane, like the eye of a tornado, like being shot out of a cannon. I slam into the earth, cracking my skull open and bloody on the rocks like a raw egg. I put my blood in the machine and around it spins, spinning, spinning, spinning, spinning, spinning, spinning, spinning I want it so bad I just want to be happy and I need it more than anything please give it to me please what else do I have to do for you I’m nothing I’m nothing. The machine screams at me and I crumple to my knees, scraping myself against the cruel concrete roadway like a lost child like a war. I need it. The riches. The redemption. Paradise. I am better than this. I am nothing.

I slide the delicate picture of my daughter into the hungry, horrific maw of the machine. I am spared. I feel my blood freeze over in guilt, potent in every bead of sweat that rests against my forehead. I am marked. I walk blindly from the slot machine and it calls to me from behind, same old promise, same old game. Down the naked road I walk until the soles of my shoes cave in and I burn my feet on the asphalt. Years pass, staring down the barrel of the slot machine, I let myself be eaten, whole, slathered in sin, maybe in the end, I deserved this.